Chương 41: Foreigner.

Misttide As Tarion sleeps, a body guard protects. JOSHUA The guard took control of the situation.

"Sir Loran, can you heal from the poison?" Uncle nodded, looking sicker.

"Yes, it's rudimentary. Next morning it will be in my pee like the ale."

"Then..." The guard whipped his blade out.

"We hold out. Lord." He looked to me.

"Stay alert." I just like that the cloaked man sprints through the door, slicing a neck and then a face.

"Lock it." The guard slammed the door behind him. I got any chair or table I could carry and obstructed the way as I heard men being slain one after another. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked outside from the corner of a window. When I heard the blue-eyed guard's absurd plan, I attributed it to the severe injuries he had acquired, rendering him delirious. However, with every swing of his sabre, my scepticism became belief. His mana control is remarkable.

Stable on his sword, I saw neither a spark, flare or leak of mana. The guard's energy became a second edge sharper. Cutting through bodies and heads so clean it looked like a doctor's diagram. Tarion is strong. He had always shown talent with the blade, but his skill relied on unpredictability and originality. This man was textbook. The example every practitioner of the sword arts should aspire to be. Uncle's eyes widened while he peeked with me.

Resting on the wall, he smiled with relief as sweat dripped from his hot brow.

"Looks like the future will be fine." CHARLES LIUTOWN. On the lantern-lit floor of the underground crypt of the little pill shop lay my master. An esteemed master of medicine healed my dear friend as he balanced between life and death. A liuen master watched my master with amazement. Slowly she removed her Qi tethers and placed a hand on my friend's heart.

"Hahaha… amazing…"

"What is it, Zhi? She opened her eyes. A mixture of nervousness and excitement appeared on her face.

"The GU. Something in him, purer than any energy, is destroying the poison. Argh!" Her qi tethers brightly as she controls surging energy from Tarion. Sweat dropped from her brow as she focused. I heard shuffling out a closed door. Arguing between a stranger and the umbra. Swords were drawn, and I rushed from Zhi's side to open the door.

"Let him through!" I said to the guards who brandished their weapons at the hooded man. With mana sense learned, I saw more. A walking silence. A void. The hue displayed is just a facade.

"He is an associate. Guard above." Fortunately, the umbra obeyed my order. I guide the shorter man in. Silent as the night, he walked in, pulling a device out of his pocket. The southern man bent down beside Zhi, peeking through a single spectacle.

"You're late."

"Mm." Turning strange dials on the edge of the spectacle, runes blink and change in the glass.

"What is it then?

"The GU is gone. Replace by a new power." Hood lowered his head, looking pensive.

"Holy essence."

"Holy water…" said a stunned Zhi.

"I don't think I can fix his circles, but I can save the duke..." She looked at it with relief. Was his death that unavoidable? Drac stood back up.

"Drac!" He paused at the doorway.

"Before you go. If you don't mind." With her eyes pointed at my master, Drac gave up. Unsheathing his blade at his back, its glistening tip cut grooves into the stone floor around the sleeping noble.

"This should help with containment." The hooded man's eyes found me.

"Come here, Butler. Remember what you learned about weapon imbuement and apply it to the runes. Understand?" I hurried to where he pointed, placing my hands on the glowing runes. My mana promptly started pouring into the rune formula. A shield of smaller runes started orbiting Tarion like moths around a bright flame.

"I understand."

"Brother", a small boy called for the assassin. Kobi hid behind a door ajar.

"Why are you awake, little man?" Drac said with a playful voice.

"I can't play right now –" Even with his mask, I witnessed the foreigner struggle to hold back the anguish wrecking his heart.

"Brother has something that's going to help you, okay? So go back to your room, please…"

"Okaaay." Kobi wiped his sleepy eyes on his pyjama sleeves at his brother's instruction. To see your family member wither away and have no power to fix it was something I could empathise with. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Tarion gasped for air. He heaved as he was saved from drowning.

"Welcome back to living, Greystone."

"Drac, my fellow!" He said with a husky voice.

"You're back; I hope Davis wasn't a bad travel companion."

"He knew after a while when to shut up. You were right; he had a secret stash of Gu hidden away."

"Where?" Tarion asked.

"We searched the townhouse he rented. Any house his family owns."

"In Umbra headquarters, especially the corner of the 3rd entrance," Drac said casually.

"Don't worry, I have retrieved the GU already.

"Ah, good. Well done… Wait, you did what!?" A glare from Zhi stopped Tarion from jumping to his feet.

"Update your runes." Drac folded his arms and grinned under his mask"Thanks for the advice." The sarcastic duke winced in pain.

"You welcome. I will leave you be. How the alliance is officially over. We owe nothing to each." Drac's jacket swished as he spun to the door.

"WAIT! Have you given it to him? The boy I heard in my rest."

"Not yet." Stopping at the door, he turned back to Tarion. His face had already become less gaunt. Tarion sighed, straightening up despite the needles. He rested an arm on me.

"It's holy water. The cure to the curse is holy water." The room became silent.

"Don't joke with us, boy. The priest said –""The priest lied," Tarion interrupted Zhi.

"Holy water works on all types of cursed humans, from small symptoms to almost fully absorbed. Only when the body's will is taken, when the soul is consumed, then it's truly too late." Zhi paused in her healing. Tarion continued.

"Haven't you noticed that? The rich and the 'noble' never seem to suffer from curse breakouts, only the old and poor." Zhi cancelled her qi tether and struck the floor with an unbelievable punch.

"BASTARDS." A hole the size of a large serving plate smoked from the friction of her punch.

"I am sorry; if I had known sooner, I would have gotten you help much earlier." Tarion coughed.

"But I can help him now." A sword clicked into its holster. Zhi and Drac exchange glances.

"Okay. Here's the situation, noble. They followed you. This place is now compromised."

"You were going to give him up!?" I shouted, filled with frustration.

"Blame the barkeep sulking in the corner." Bieye turned away from the conversation, staring at the dark corner. Tarion chuckled with a hint of sadness.

"That's what he meant."

"The horn may know of this location; he only knows what he forced out of her."

"Escape tunnel?" Drac nodded.

"Into Umbra's headquarter. This was a former Umbra hideout long forgotten. We move everyone through the tunnels to the Greystone Manor to continue your healing there."

"Heard it all?" Tarion spoke to the darkened ceiling. Beatrice dropped down, kneeling before her master.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Mm. Follow his word." KURT I stood on the bodies of the foolish. In my life, marks hypnotised many men; there are many who hunger, many who dream of better. But to throw your life away when you see your comrades are hacked to pieces, a different type of madness had to have taken control. I see the fervour in the dilated eyes. Some smile as they raise the malformed blades at me. My sword struck before theirs could fall. A mana slash cut two men into four pieces. I wiped the sweat from my eye. Cuts in my skin sting.

But I maintain composure. I had too. A second of lacking was a head on the floor. I had to keep going. Cutting, killing, murdering. One, and then another. More, more. A heavy strike brought my knee to the ground. I couldn't lift it. Another bash of their weapon broke the stone floor under me. One more bash dug me deeper. I felt my arm crack. No strength. No energy. 33 enemies I laid to waste, and a single brute was the man who would bring me death. I was insulted by the thought.

He stabbed at my face and ripped the hood from my cloak. And my blonde blew free. Noticing my speed slow down, the brute flared his blade with a cocky smile and charged forward with a strike from the sky. Not today. The brute paused. Eyes widened as he saw a rare sight in the south.

"Tattoos... A shav—" A brute's sword and neck sliced; the wind of my strike blew the body away. A familiar heat on my face brought forth what I'd rather forget. Healing my cuts like new, the power felt too good. However, the example of my new strength didn't scare the assailants; they stalked towards me and came at me with weapons full of blue fire. JOSHUA The street became rubble as the guard's blade dug up stone like soft soil. Absurd strength sent enemies to die like swatted flies.

Any sign of the grace he had shown before had vanished; instead, a beast ravaged the battlefield, not caring how he got his kill. He hammered the last, 3rd circle with fury; his desperate growl brought fear to me like a beast in the woodlands. Tattoos growing from his head. Can only mean one thing. A shaved. A Northern Barbarian. Friedland's enemy.

"HAHAHA, Tarion sure has interesting people under his employment. A barbarian working for Greystone. HAHAHAHA. I lived to see such a day!!" The obstructed door exploded open, with tables and chairs flying in every direction.

"Sheath your blade; it is I. We remain without attackers for now." The tattooed guard said, catching a bottle of wine thrown by Uncle; he wobbled while he could barely stand. I offered an unbroken chair; my kindness unnerved the guard, but he accepted regardless.

"Well done," Uncle said, gesturing to drink, and the guard did as ordered. He sighed, feeling refreshed.

"Drank it all in one gulp! AHAHA, A TRUE SHAVED!" The guard noticed us staring at his face tattoos that resemble simple runes and their retracting back into his blonde hair. We heard an Umbra whistle beckoning us from afar; disappointment on his face, the guard whistled back, and he saluted.

"It was a pleasure to serve."

"Rest," Uncle winked.

"You've earned your rest."

"But—""Name. Age", Uncle ordered.

"Kurt. 23 years, sir." Uncle smiled.

"I think I am going to stay in Osberg a while longer."